Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1887-05-28

rays Of the sun made every object appear
to pulse and throb, and half blinded as
she was with the glare, it took some little
time for her to satisfy herself that she
was not mistaken.
Twisting and twining among the flow
| ers she counted at least dozen serpents.
They dotted the lawn in front of the house,
and were crawling along the winding
walks. In the shady back yard it was
still worse The little Enclosure appeared
to be a living, wriggling mass Of shining
scales and glittering eyes. Many of the
snakes were running under the house, but
how many had already reached that place
of shelter the frightened watcher was, of
course, unable to tell.
Mrs. Matson retreated to the spacious
hall and clasped her hands over her eyes.
1t was peculiar noise that she heard. 1t
sounded like an occasional muffied flap,
flap! What could it be? 1t was easy
enough to answer the question. The noise
could only have been made by the scores,
and perhaps hundreds, of sQuirming,
twisting reptiles under the house.
For the first time in her life Mrs Mat
son was thoroughly terrified. Obeying a
sudden impulse, she rushed into the room
assigned to the invalid.
Aunt Lucy stood covering in one cor
ner, trembling with fear and unable to
utter word.
Sitting upright in bed, with an unnatu-
raj glitter in his eyes and darting his odd
little head from side to side, was the I'M
known guest.
Ladies'" he said in an unfamiliar for
eign brogue, "be not afraid. No harm
ter dees house. Ne soon be meself.
Strange theengs alarm de ladee. Eets all
right.''
Mrs. Matson waited to hear no more;
she ran frantically to the parlor and boited
herself in.
sLadeel Ladeer'
1t was the voice of the stranger out in
the hall. There was a sound as of some
body struggling, and the mellow voice Of
Aunt Lucy was uplifted in vain remon-
STRANGE.
"Missus, oh, missus," she cried, eds
yer Mister Man hab done got on his
clothes and is er takin' on pow'ful. He
say he bound fer ter go.''
''Ladee, good by. promised no harm
ter dees house. So l go. Good by,
good by!''
There was another struggle and a yell
from Aunt Lucy, and then the opening
and closing of door signaled the mans
departure.
From the back windows the mistress OF
the house and the half demented women
saw the strangest sight that mortal eyes
ever beheld
Onward, down the slope leading to the
river walked or rather glided the stranger.
From every clump Of shrubbery and
every tuft of grass darted snake.
The man swayed to and fro, whirling
his arms, welcoming and reckoning this
legion of serpents. Whizzing through the
grass, tossing their heads and Kissing all
the while, the excited moccasins soon
closed in upon the man. They twined
around his legs, girdled his waist, hung
upon his arms and shoulders and wrapped
themselves about his neck until he was a
moving tower of snakes.
Onward, down to the river whirlad this
strange combination of monsters. The
distracted watchers at the big house
their eyes to see the end of it all.
The moving mass disappeared. There
the broad river and all was over
When John Matson returned late that
afternoon he found a perfect bedlam at his
house. From the servants he could
gather nothing but the widest and most
incoherent tales. His fainting wife was
in the first stage of brain fever, and it was
many long day before she could answer
his questions.
at is such blank business, the whole
blank thing" said Matson to his family
doctor, ''that I'll be BANKED if care to
say blank word about it."
The doctor was q sensible man.. He
agreed with Matson that the best way was
to keep mum.-Atlanta Constitution.